Pamreihor Khashimwo
Introduction
On a damp July 25th, 1997, the Nagas witnessed a historic ceasefire between the Indian government and the NSCN-IM, ending decades of armed conflict. In its aftermath, the Naga movement gained significant strength, symbolising unity and resistance, reaching even the Jantar Mantar and Parliament streets of New Delhi. However, over time, that energy has waned, replaced by ritualistic ceremonies and formulaic speeches. Now, 28 years later, the Framework Agreement of 2015 remains in limbo, with New Delhi adroitly silent while the NSCN-IM issues warnings of betrayal.
The Naga movement seems trapped between internal disillusionment, marked by fractured leadership, ideological fatigue, and public apathy, and external strategies of surveillance, co-optation, and delay. This piece raises a question,is the Naga political movement collapsing under the weight of its own divisions, or is it being gradually smothered by deliberate indifference and denial from New Delhi? More than politics is at stake; it is the future of a people, their history, and an unfinished dream.
Historical Context and Legacy
The Naga political movement is one of South Asia’s oldest and most enduring struggles for self-determination. Its origins can be traced to the 1929 memorandum submitted to the Simon Commission by the Naga Club, asserting that Nagas should be left to govern themselves when the British left India. This early expression of political distinctiveness laid the groundwork for the formation of the Naga National Council (NNC) in the 1940s, which later declared Naga independence on 14 August 1947. The refusal to join the Indian Union and subsequent armed confrontations led to the outbreak of insurgency in the 1950s, establishing the Naga movement as a powerful symbol of resistance rooted in ethnic identity, political autonomy, and historical sovereignty.
Over the decades, the movement evolved from armed rebellion to complex political negotiations, marked by ceasefires, peace talks, and factional splits. Despite internal divisions and prolonged engagement with the Indian state, the Naga struggle retained significant moral and political capital, representing a unique case of ethno-political assertion in Asia. This legacy continues to shape the contemporary discourse, raising critical questions about the movement’s coherence, legitimacy, and the pressures, both internal and external, that now threaten its future.
Signs of Internal Fracture
The movement today shows alarming signs of internal decay, marked by deepening fragmentation, ideological drift, and a widening disconnect from its original emancipatory purpose. At the core lies the proliferation of factions, most notably the rivalry between NSCN-IM and the Naga National Political Groups (NNPGs), as well as internal splinters within each. These groups, once bound by a shared vision of Naga sovereignty, now compete for influence, resources, and legitimacy, eroding the movement’s cohesion.
Public faith in the movement has also diminished. Many Nagas increasingly perceive Naga armedgroups’ elites as self-serving, disconnected from grassroots realities, and entrenched in extractive practices like parallel taxation and extortion. The movement’s moral authority has suffered under the weight of elite capture, where a small group monopolises negotiations and benefits, sidelining the broader Naga public. Tribal divisions further compound these fissures, as tensions between Nagaland-based Naga and “outside” Nagas (from Manipur, Arunachal, Assam, and Myanmar) sharpen, challenging any pan-Naga consensus.
The leadership remains largely gerontocratic, with ageing figures often out of step with the aspirations of Naga youth, who increasingly seek democratic participation, economic dignity, and ideological renewal. This generational rift is compounded by the movement’s loss of ideological clarity and absenceofa unifying political philosophy or roadmap beyond vague notions of sovereignty. Instead, survival has come to depend on coercive control, patronage, and informal economies, further alienating civil society.
Meanwhile, New Delhi has deftly exploited these internal vulnerabilities. Through calibrated funding, selective recognition, and development schemes, it has co-opted sections of the Naga armed leadership, deepening internal mistrust. What was once a radical nationalist movement is now showing signs of dying from within, not for lack of history or sacrifice, but due to internal fractures and the loss of moral and political direction.
External Pressures and Strategic Strangulation
The movement today stands at a critical juncture and is politically moribund, caught between internal fatigue and external containment. A deepening generational divide has reshaped its moral and strategic core. While older revolutionary leaders cling to the ideals of sovereignty forged in the crucible of armed struggle, younger Nagas, raised amid ceasefire-era contradictions and increasing global exposure, tend to value peace, development, and pragmatic engagement. This divergence has diluted the movement’s ideological cohesion and left its political articulation fragmented.
Meanwhile, civil society actors, including church bodies, women’s organisations, and student unions, have emerged as agents of accountability and reconciliation. Though often sidelined by formal negotiations, their consistent emphasis on healing, transparency, and grassroots dialogue has filled the moral vacuum left by factional politics and prolonged ceasefire stagnation. These actors neither seek to displace the core demands of the Naga cause nor romanticise violence, but rather insist that political legitimacy must be rooted in ethical conduct and popular consent.
Externally, New Delhi’s calibrated strategy, marked by protracted negotiations, selective co-option, and securitised containment, has effectively disaggregated the movement. What was once a pan-Naga aspiration has been strategically localised, compartmentalised, and depoliticised through economic incentives. In this context, a critical question looms, is there still space for a renewed political vision that transcends factionalism, reclaims moral authority, and speaks directly to the lived realities of Nagas across geographies?
This moment, though challenging, also offers potential. The withering of absolutist politics and the rise of grounded civic consciousness may open pathways for reimagining self-determination, less as an ideological endpoint and more as an evolving process rooted in justice, dignity, and people’s aspirations. The future of the Naga movement may depend not on resurrection through nostalgia but on reinvention grounded in realism and hope.
The Dilemma of Leadership and Future Pathways
The movement is caught between the weight of its revolutionary legacy and the shifting aspirations of a new generation. The generational divide is stark, while older leaders remain anchored to historic claims and militarised struggle, many among the younger Naga population seek pragmatic pathways grounded in dignity and democratic engagement. This disjuncture has eroded public confidence in the movement’s leadership, raising questions about its relevance and direction.
In parallel, the rise of civil society organisationshas infused the discourse with new voices committed to peace, reconciliation, and grassroots accountability. These actors increasingly serve as moral anchors, challenging both state violence and internal authoritarianism. In this evolving landscape, a fundamental question emerges, can a reformulated political vision arise, one that reclaims the core aspirations of Naga identity and self-determination yet adapts to contemporary realities? For the movement to endure meaningfully, leadership must reckon with its internal fractures and open space for inclusive, transparent dialogue. The future lies not in retracing hardened positions, but in nurturing a renewed moral and political imagination rooted in the people, not above them.
Conclusion
The Naga political movement stands at a haunting crossroads; once a potent emblem of indigenous resistance and self-determination, it now teeters between internal fragmentation and external suffocation. What was forged in fire and vision risks fading into irrelevance, not solely through state coercion but through contested legitimacy, elite capture, and faltering trust within. As the Framework Agreement lies stillborn, its silence echoes louder than its signing. An elder once said, “When the river forgets its source, it dries not from drought but from amnesia.” Today, the movement must ask whether its erosion stems from forgetting its own people, its moral compass, or from being slowly asphyxiated by a state skilled in waiting. This is not just the story of a movement in peril; it is a mirror to all struggles negotiating between co-option and conviction. What dies quietly in the Naga hills may roar again or vanish without burial.
